


The Tiger Inside

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Coma, Established Relationship, F/M, I swear to god this will end in larry, Illness, M/M, Parallel Universe, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night that Louis Tomlinson announces his engagement, Harry Styles is hit by a car - and wakes up in his ex-boyfriend's arms. Although, according to Louis, they're still together - and have been for the past eight years.<br/>As Harry grapples with two realities, his family is waiting in a hospital room for him to finally wake up.</p><p>Disclaimer: It has come to my attention that I don't actually own One Direction. I know. I'm shocked too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from The Tiger Inside Will Eat The Child by Kate Miller-Heidke. You can listen to it if you want. I'm not sure how relevant it is to the plot.

“Another, please.” The barmaid gives Harry an odd look – he still gets recognised occasionally – but obligingly slides a tequila shot over the counter. He swallows it quickly, wincing as he feels the burn in his throat.  
He’s been here since midnight, which was about four shots and twenty-seven minutes ago. He’ll probably feel like absolute hell in the morning, but at this point he’d rather spend an hour hugging his toilet bowl than remember the email which drove him to the bar in the first place. It’s not like he really has any right to be angry – he relinquished his claim on Louis years ago, long before the second album, let alone the band breakup eighteen months before this night – but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to see the cheery “Hi all – big news! Leah and I are getting married!” black against the bright background of his phone.  
He realises he is glowering and the barmaid is giving him slightly frightened looks, and suddenly the bar is much too stuffy. He slides a tenner across the counter and stands, stumbling a little. “Sorry. Keep the change.” Get a grip, Harry. He manages to get himself out the door without falling over again and quickly turns in the direction of his flat, breath puffing white in the cold air. Dragon’s breath, Louis used to call it. And then he would laugh, and breathe in Harry’s face and- shut up brain.  
Harry’s almost there – he only has one more block to go, and it’s pretty quiet so he just keeps going across the main road, not bothering to wait for the lights.  
By the time he sees the car it’s too late.  
\---  
 _Bleep. Bleep. Bleep._  
The steady beeping of the heart machine are the only indication that the man in the bed is alive. A stray curl pokes out from under the bandage on top of his head, and two thick plasters cover his elevated legs. The door to his hospital room opens, admitting two young men, but the man on the bed doesn’t stir.  
“Fuck, Harry.”  
“Oh my god, Zayn. I- I can’t believe-” Liam buries his head into the crook of Zayn’s neck, Zayn’s arms wrapping around him automatically.  
“I know. Jesus, fuck. He doesn’t even look alive.” Zayn takes a deep breath. “Anne and Robin will be here soon. We should- we should do something for them.”  
Liam shudders, his voice muffled by Zayn’s thick jumper. “Yeah. I wish they could stay with us, but with Niall too-“  
“I don’t think they’d want to anyway.” Liam pulls away to frown at him. “They’re going to want to be near the hospital as much as possible, babe. Half an hour of London traffic is too far. We’ll just do what we can for them.”  
“I guess you’re right. As usual.”  
They stand there a moment longer arms around each other, just staring at Harry. Then the door opens and they turn, though still not leaving each others’ sides. A doctor enters, giving them a wane smile.  
“You must be Liam and Zayn. The honorary family members. Most unusual for you to be let in, but anyway…” She busies herself checking the readings off the machines.  
Liam only manages a few moments before he bursts out, “Is he going to be okay?”  
She turns to look at them seriously. “He will live. His head injuries are reasonably minor, and we may hope that he has not suffered severe memory loss or concussion. However, we cannot know when he will awaken from his coma. It could be hours, or it could be days or weeks – provided the family chooses to keep him on life support.”  
Zayn and Liam stare in horror. “But they will!” Zayn says, perhaps more loudly than he had intended. “They won’t let him- they can’t just- They’re his family!”  
For the first time there is some emotion behind the woman’s eyes. It looks like pity. “I understand how impossible the decision may seem. But sometimes it appears to be the best option.” She suddenly reverts to her businesslike manner. “I’ll be back in half an hour to check his vitals again. If there is any change in his condition please don’t hesitate to ring for a nurse immediately.”  
They nod, and she leaves.  
The room is silent but for the bleep, bleep, bleep of the heart monitor.  
\---  
Harry’s head jerks to the side. The car is almost upon him, and he can only freeze in the headlights. His eyes close and suddenly he is falling, falling, into an abyss and-  
“Harry! Harry, wake up!”  
Harry frowns. He is awake, and he’s falling and- His eyes jerk open.  
He’s in a bed, a warm, secure, comfortable bed. The clock on the bedside table reads 2:15. It is dark, and quiet, and he feels safer than he has for a long time.  
“Harry, it’s okay, it was just a nightmare.”  
Harry freezes. He knows that voice well.  
He rolls over, and Louis Tomlinson is staring down at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this is so much longer than I anticipated. Anyway. This is what I did instead of my English essay. Enjoy.

Harry’s breath catches in his throat. Louis is staring him with concern in his eyes, and his face is just as Harry remembers it, down to the little line between his eyes when he frowns and the stubble on his chin and the way his fringe flops into his eyes at night when it isn’t all gelled up.

“Haz? Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

Before he can stop himself Harry blurts, “You’re so beautiful.” _Fuck._

Louis’s eyes soften though, and he flops back down on the mattress, pulling Harry into him. “Shut up, Curly. C’mere.”

Harry is now certain that he is still dreaming, but hey, he’s not complaining. Masochistic as it may be, he snuggles deeper into Louis’s side and inhales his scent. Louis smells like home.  
Harry closes his eyes and goes to sleep with a smile on his face.

\---

“The doctor says that in the majority of cases comatose patients wake within five weeks – it doesn’t help that he was drunk when he was hit, but we have to hope for the best.” Anne takes a shaky breath. “I’m going to stay in the hospital full time with him, so I’m here when he wakes.”

Niall reaches forward to squeeze her hands. “We want to do whatever we can to help, Anne. I’m going to stay at Zayn and Liam’s place, and you can call us at any time, night or day. No matter what you need.”

Anne smiles at him tearfully. “What would I do without you boys?”

Niall’s plane from Dublin arrived at five in the morning and an exhausted Zayn had picked him up from the airport and driven him straight to the hospital, where he – as the most rested member of one direction not in a coma – had insisted that Liam and Zayn go home and sleep while he stayed with Anne. It is now nearly noon and Harry hasn’t moved at all. Niall is sitting on the couch in the corner with his guitar next to him, intermittently talking to Anne and scribbling chords and lyrics into a battered notebook. Liam texted twenty minutes ago to say that he’s awake if they need anything, but not to call the home phone or they’ll wake Zayn.

None of them have heard from Louis.

Gemma taps on the door. She’s been down in the cafeteria having lunch with her boyfriend, Carl (or is it Kyle? Niall isn’t sure, but he doesn’t like the guy). “Hey mum, Niall.” She sits down next to Anne on the fold out bed next to Harry – the bed where Anne will be sleeping. “I can get two days off work a week. Plus weekends. So I’ll be here as much as I possibly can, okay?”

Anne wraps her daughter in a tight embrace. “Of course, sweetie.  Whatever you can manage.”

Gemma sighs. “Yeah. I just want to be here if he- _when_ he wakes up. I want to do everything I can. And I want my stupid little brother back.” Her face crumples. “Idiot, why didn’t he just call a cab to get home?”

Anne is crying too now. The two Styles women hold each other tightly. Niall doesn’t know what to do, so he says quietly, “I’ll go get us all some tea.”

There’s not much else they can do but wait.

\--

Zayn wakes at three in the afternoon. His first thought is for Liam – then he immediately feels bad, because right now Harry is the one most in need right now. He pads out to the kitchen and sees Liam chopping carrots with a fierce expression on his face. Zayn knows that face well. Liam is upset, but he doesn’t want to show it.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Zayn wraps his arms around Liam’s waist from behind.

Liam growls in frustration. “I’m trying to make a vegetable soup for Anne but nothing is fucking _working_! _”_

“Hey, calm down. It’s fine, Liam.”

Liam whirls around. “But it _isn’t._ Nothing is fine! Harry is in a fucking coma and I just realised that Niall cancelled the last two shows of his tour to be here and Louis hasn’t even replied to my messages and I have to make this bloody soup-“ He breaks down into tears and buries his face in Zayn’s shirt. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just making everything worse.”

“No, shh, you’re doing your best, Li.” Zayn takes a breath. It is rare for Liam to get this worked up, but then again this isn’t exactly a normal situation. “C’mon, I’ll help you with the soup. One problem at a time, yeah?”

They chop vegetables in silence, their arms brushing as they slide mounds of carrots and celery and zucchini into a large bowl. Liam’s brows are furrowed, and Zayn desperately wants to know what he is thinking but knows better than to push. Liam will tell him, if it’s something important. He always does.

They scrape all the chopped vegetables into the pot of stock boiling on the stove, and Liam shoots him a grateful smile. It’s small, but Liam makes the most of everything. He’s resilient, Liam is. He just bounces back and bounces back. Sometimes Zayn worries whether he will ever run out of bounce and just… stop. He hopes not.

“Thanks babe.” Liam brushes his arm with the back of his hand. “Let’s- let’s just watch a movie while we wait for the veggies to soften up, yeah?”

Liam pulls Zayn to the couch and pulls a DVD from the shelf under the coffee table. Zayn watches him absently as he sets up the movie, only realising as the movie begins that they are watching Toy Story 3. The last time they watched this was a October last year – exactly five years after their second world tour ended. This is what Liam does when he’s feeling nostalgic. Or when he wants an excuse to cry.

Lotso has just dragged Woody into the dumpster when Liam pauses the movie. “Zayn, I- there’s something. About Harry.”

Zayn reaches out and entwines their fingers. “What’s wrong?”

Liam shifts uncomfortably. “It’s not – not _wrong,_ just not… Not good, I guess.” He swallows. “At the hospital, while you were off getting Niall, I- I looked at Harry’s phone. Just, you know, unlocked it. To see who he had been contacting recently so I could let them know what happened.”

Zayn frowns. “What’s wrong with that?”

“I- nothing, I guess. But it opened straight to Harry’s email – he was looking at the email from Louis. The one about the engagement. It was _the last thing he saw on his phone_.” Liam looks at Zayn beseechingly. “I always wondered if he still- whether he ever really moved on. I don’t think he did, Zayn.”

“You think he tried to _kill himself_ because of Louis?”

“What? No! I think he saw the email and got really drunk and upset, and then stumbled home and got hit by a car. And I think- I think that when he wakes up he’s still going to be upset.”

“Liam.” Zayn swallows, unsure how to say what is running through his head. “I don’t think Harry is still in love with Louis. They split _seven years_ ago. Just because he hasn’t really had a serious relationship recently doesn’t mean- Look, I don’t think we should worry about it, okay?”

Liam huffs a sigh. “Yeah. Let’s just- Let’s just worry about the soup for now. Right.” He pushes himself off the couch, squeezing Zayn’s hand gently before letting go. “I think it’s ready.”

\---

They’re at the hospital by four thirty. Anne and Niall are both asleep on the couch with their heads on each others’ shoulders. Zayn and Liam page quickly through the clipboard at the end of Harry’s bed. There has been no change in his condition. The doctors are certain there is no internal bleeding. He’ll wake up when he is ready. That really isn’t as comforting as it is probably meant to sound.

They reheat the soup when Anne and Niall wake, and the four of them eat together, scattered around the hospital bed. Robin is arriving that night and staying over the weekend, so at seven Liam and Zayn take Niall home. The three of them haven’t been together, just the three of them, since- well, probably since Harry and Louis were together, Niall realises with surprise. That’s a ridiculously long time. Zayn and Liam are just so _couple-y._ It’s not that they’re big on public displays of affection or anything – they’re not – it’s just that they so clearly love each other that sometimes it’s just uncomfortable to be around them without other people. Now, however, Niall isn’t sure he would be comfortable with anyone else. Zayn and Liam have a steadiness both individually and together. Back when they were One Direction, these two were the ones Niall turned to when he was homesick or upset. Tonight, they help him carry his bags into the spare bedroom (“your bedroom, for as long as you want it.”) and the three of them pull blankets over themselves and sit on the kitchen floor and drink hot chocolate, just like they used to do at Harry’s bungalow nearly a decade ago.

Niall is the first to break the silence.

“This is fucking insane.”

There is a pause, and then Liam whispers, “Yeah.”

“Heard from Louis?”

Liam shakes his head morosely. “Not yet. He’s probably busy with wedding plans, or something, though. I’m sure he’ll get back to us. I’ve left him enough messages.”

Zayn pulls Liam into his side, then reaches across to squeeze Niall’s knee. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad we’ve got each other. Don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

Niall blows him a kiss, his face cracking into a smile, and Liam smacks a real one on his cheek. “You’re such a sop, babe.”

“Eugh. Please don’t get all couple-y, I’m right here. It’s like watching my parents. My parents who split up _nearly two decades ago_.” Niall wrinkles his nose, but his eyes are soft.

Liam and Zayn turn to him with ridiculously identical sheepish looks. Niall’s heart melts a bit at how stupidly perfect they are for each other. Not that he thinks they’re cute or anything. Except he kind of does.

And he’s pretty sure that without him to guide them they would have taken a helluva lot longer to get together. Honestly, with the amount of time they spent making puppy eyes at each other when the other one wasn’t looking and drunkenly moaning about unrequited love it was a miracle that they had gotten together at all.

Niall rolls his eyes. “I’m going to head to bed. Love you guys.” He departs with a ruffle of their hair.

\---

Harry blearily cracks an eye open. For a moment he thinks he is home, safe in bed, but then he realises that the light is coming from the wrong side of the room. That, and there is a warm body next to him. Harry never brings people home. So he must have met someone, and gone home with them. Why the hell did he stay the night, though? He takes a deep breath, and slowly rolls over.

He is in bed with Louis Tomlinson.

Everything comes rushing back.

Harry thinks he might be hyperventilating. Twelve hours ago – was that twelve hours ago? He isn’t sure – he found out that Louis Tomlinson was _engaged._ To a _woman._ That had been a fucking shock. More than it should have been, actually. He and Louis had split – well, taken a break was the plan at the time – for the band, to stop the rumours and the accusations and the bad publicity it was apparently getting them. They were going to get back together once the world was slightly less shitty or once One Direction had lost some fame and needed a publicity kick or something. Anything they could use to justify their relationship to Syco, really. They swore to each other they would get back together, desperate promises as they tangled their fingers through each other’s hair on that final morning in bed.

They didn’t get back together.

Instead, there had been Eleanor. She had been a suggestion from their PR originally, but after a year Harry had no idea whether it was still a fake relationship or whether Louis actually loved her.

By the time that ended the band just wasn’t _working_ anymore and they had all wanted time away.

It was another break which wasn’t intended to be permanent.

And now he has woken up in Louis’s bed, with a vague memory of being here in the middle of the night and a more certain one of being in a bar and being very, very drunk.

Harry is stirred from his thoughts by the feeling of the mattress shifting next to him. He looks down and Louis is waking up. He still has absolutely no idea how the _hell_ he got here.

Louis opens his perfectly blue eyes and smiles up at him. “Morning, Curly.”

Harry gulps. “Uh, morning.”

“You okay?” Louis frowns. “You didn’t let the cat piss on the bed again did you?”

Harry shakes his head. He had no idea that Louis – or _they,_ maybe, who knows what the fuck is going on – even had a cat.

“Then why are you all…” Louis frowns, reaches up to poke Harry’s dimple. “Contemplative?”

“Just thinking.” Harry has now managed to say two whole words to Louis. Words that made sense. This feels like progress.

“Well, stop thinking and make me some tea, yeah?”

Harry nods, moving to slip out of bed. He freezes when the cold air hits his chest and he realises that he is naked. _Did he sleep with Louis?_ Doesn’t Louis live on the opposite side of London? How did he even get here?

“Haz, hurry _up._ It’s not that cold, is it?”

Right. Tea. He figures that a) Louis has seen his naked plenty of times and b) in most of the possible situations Harry can think of that would get him here, Louis would be aware that he was naked. He pushes himself out of bed and, locating the door, begins to move around the bed towards it. On the back of the door are two bathrobes. He grabs the bigger one and pulls it on. Who knows who could be on the other side of this door? Harry decides that if he will be dealing with an angry fiancée he would rather do it without flashing his dick at her.

\---

Harry doesn’t encounter any angry fiancées, but while he’s waiting for the kettle to boil he examines the photos on the fridge and sees a lot of Louis and himself together.  He doesn’t recognise most of them. There’s a couple from X Factor days, and a few tour ones he remembers, but the vast majority are from things he has absolutely no recognition of. He and Louis snuggled up on a couch, him kissing Louis on the cheek; all five of them on the Alan Carr couch –except he and Louis are holding hands, they never did that – smiling at the camera; another where Zayn and Niall are both wearing snow-white suits and have their arms wrapped around each other with Liam sitting on one side and Harry and Louis on the other. Harry is certain that this last one never happened because Liam is- Liam is _really thin._ Liam’s always been quite muscular, but in this photo it looks like there is nothing on his bones. His hair is longer, too. Shaggier than it was even when he was sixteen. _What the hell is going on?_ He hears the electronic whistle of the kettle and turns to take it off the base. There is a box of Yorkshire tea already on the bench and two mugs on the drying rack, so he doesn’t have to search through the cupboards. He pours the tea and carries it back through to the bedroom, handing Louis one mug before perching uncertainly on the other side of the bed.

Louis reaches over and touches his waist. “Haz, what’s wrong? C’mon get back into bed, you’re scaring me.”

Harry looks over at him. His forehead is all creased and his eyes are wide with worry. Harry manages to give him a soft smile, and climbs back under the covers. “Sorry, I’m just… Having an off-day, or something. I’m fine.” He hesitates, then reaches up to smooth the lines from Louis’s forehead. “Don’t frown, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Louis breaks into a smile instantly, catching Harry’s wrist before he can pull away and kissing his palm. “Thank God. I thought you were going to- I mean, I know it’s stupid. But what with Niall and Zayn-“ He takes a deep breath. “I thought you were going to pull a Zayn on me.”

“What do you mean?” _Niall and Zayn?_ Harry is completely lost.

Louis looks at him pleadingly. “Don’t make me say it. It’s embarrassing.”

Embarrassing Louis is something Harry is entirely comfortable with, so he pokes him in the stomach and says, “Go on.”

“Ugh, I thought you were going to do what Zayn is doing to Niall and dump me completely out of the blue. Happy?”

Harry manages a nod, but he isn’t.

Because he’s beginning to think he understands what’s going on – he’s been watching _Doctor Who_ since he was a kid, come on – and if this is- if this is a _parallel universe_ (and he thinks it must be, there is literally no other explanation that fits. It just seems stupidly obvious and he has never felt so sure of anything, which is pretty terrifying, Jesus, fuck), and Zayn is with Niall, and Harry is with Louis – where is Liam?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is deeply appreciated.
> 
> also tumblr: sheeranxiety.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that was so short - the next chapter will be a lot longer, I think.


End file.
